The Green, Green Grass of Home
by Me
Summary: Schultz's son is one of the Hitler Youth stationed in prisnoers' barracks, but that doesn't make getting news out about the bridge the Germans didn't blow up any easier. Sequel to The Saboteur's Apprentice


Those on this forum for a long time will recall this story - back before you had to have one story per post this was up in 3 schapters, back in 2000. So, it's not really the best. It's a sequel to "The Saboteur's Apprentice," and can even be considered a sequel from "Something's Hogan in the sTate of Denmar." It is not all in one, because I couldn't figure out a couple years back how to change it to load full chapters, so I deleted it and now am doing this.

This episode takes place very near the end of the war, and is my idea for a finale. Not much new has been added, so if you've read you don't need to again, but I wanted to post it to have it back here, since I'd be updating it and it would be up here, anyway.

The Green, Green Grass of Home

The barren soil upon which the cold, tired feet of Master Sergeant Hans Schultz trod discouraged him as much as it did the prisoners at LuftStalag 13.Bitter cold had made the recent Christmas season almost unbearable for those in the camp, the result of immense reductions in heating fuel thanks to the pending defeat of his native Germany. Not that he loved the leaders of Germany, he pondered as he counted the assembled throng of prisoners - their numbers doubling every couple months. He disliked his leaders. It was still a great tragedy that his nation should lose, though in war, he chose to never take sides. Oh, how he missed the warmth and coziness of home.

"Hey, Schultz, how's the wife and kids?" Robert Hogan joked to him. The senior POW officer at Stalag 13, clad in a brown bomer's outfit and matching cap, enjoyed amicably chatting with some of the Germans. His seeming friendship covered a great hatred for the Nazis and their tyranny, tyranny which he fought by leading a massive sabotage and rescue mission right under the Germans' noses.

Schultz finished counting and snickered, masking a longing for home, a longing added to by Hogan's query.

"That extra paycheck really came in handy last month," commented the obese guard. The "paycheck"

to which he referred came because a mission some months back had led to the adding of his eldest son, Oskar, onto the roster of guards at the camp. Of course, the teen, barely draft age, had now been listed as "home on indefinite leave" since last July.

"To buy presents for the birthday boy and your wife, or food for yourself?" inquired James Kinchloe, one of few black prisoners in camp.

Defensively, Schultz began, "Presents for them," then admitted lowly, "It let me spend almost all of my own on food."

"Blimey, he eats so much, it's a wonder he hasn't starved the Germans into surrenderin' himself," quipped a British corporal, Peter Newkirk.

"And he still gobbles up all of my strudel," noted a short Frenchman named Louis LeBeau. "No wonder Klink hasn't noticed his son's missing ; he probably keeps track of guards by averaging their weights, and he figures there's one more."

"Reporrrrt," hollered balding Kommandant Wilhelm Klink as he strode out of his office in a heavy coat, noticeably shivering.

"All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant," came the saluting sergeant, now facing the monocled Klink.

Klink addressed the prisoners. "Men, we are, as you know, getting very short on many of our supplies."

"We'd give you plenty if you'd surrender," announced the Englishman.

The prisoners began giggling. "Yeah, Kommandant, turn the camp over to us, we'll give you more blankets, clothing, food, we'll make like it's an Allied POW camp and nothing will have to change."

The voice was Hogan's.

Andrew Carter, an American sergeant, added, "We'll even let you watch Betty Grable movies every Saturday night." The offer was typical of the boyish sergeant, who always seemed to have a very innocent and trusting attitude.

"Silence," Klink shouted to little avail as the prisoners were now laughing hard. Once the rancor died down, he finally continued. "Now, as you know, we are in need of many things, especially guards. I do not know how Colonel Hogan has done it, but I do wish to publicly thank you, Hogan, for all the effort you've made in keeping intact my perfect record of no escapes."

"It's nothing, really, Kommandant," stated Hogan, setting him up for a punch line. "If that's the only

thing keeping you from going crazy, I'm glad to help." Of course, the reason for the "perfect record" was so the inept Klink could keep his job as kommandant. Hogan also felt for him - a little. Not as much as for Schultz, who was truly neutral, and often fraternized with the prisoners. However, Klink was not a mean sort, and Hogan felt that, if Klink knew what was really happening in his country, if Klink realized and admitted to himself the true brutality of the Nazis, he would hate it. However, he never revealed any of his operation to Klink, because the kommandant was also too cowardly to admit he saw nothing if push came to shove. To him, it seemed Klink was still fighting World War One, trying to win for a "glorious Fatherland," and not the monsters which ruled Nazi Germany.

Giggles intensified as Klink fumed inwardly. After a few seconds, he resumed his announcements. "Now, we are losing still more guards to the defense of the glorious Fatherland. I have had to call upon some reserves. Among these, is a certain young man whom Sergeant Schultz happily obliged me in calling up from a Hitler Youth rally."

Just then, Schultz's son, Oskar, and a couple dozen other guards marched up to the prisoners from the guard's quarters. All appeared to be in their middle teens. Hogan guessed that not one of them was of draft age for the U.S. army - of course, the Germans were drafting younger and younger people out of desperation.

"This young man is finally over a number of ailments, such as German measles, mumps, and so on, which kept him from active duty since I first noticed he was listed as a 'quarantined individual.'"

Kinch murmured to Hogan. "Sorry, guess we were too busy to change the illness often enough, the time must have lapsed."

"It's okay," came the resigned American colonel, "He's friendly, at least. As long as they didn't find out

it was us who made that up about his being sick."

Klink continued, undaunted by the inaudible murmurs. "And, after consulting with General Burkhalter, I have decided to institute a new policy. Because of an unseemly rash of escapes from other camps, plus our own personnel problems, we are making up for our lack of guards around the camp. From now on, I am placing one of these young men, each members of the Hitler Youth, in each barracks." The prisoners hooted and hollered.

Hogan raised his eyebrows. How will we run our operations with a guard in our barracks all the time, he wondered. Even a raw recruit like these?

Newkirk couldn't resist making a comment, but his protest to Klink, of course, was something far different. He complained that, "That's no fair, they're not old enough to see my girly magazines."

"Yeah, what do I do with my pinups?" Carter wondered angrily. "A guy has to get some pleasure out of being here."

"Silence! I know this war is taking an extra toll on all of us," remarked Klink, trying to sound cheerful. "However, they would be forced to grow up very fast in one way or another, and this is a good way to ensure they do not have to fight. They have been indoctrinated in our truth very well, however,"

Klink warned the throng of prisoners, though he looked square at Hogan, "so I warn you - do not try to brainwash them. Any attempts will be reported to me." He saluted quickly and hollered "diiiiis-missed!"

As Klink left, Hogan turned and grumbled. His main, front-line unit of Heroes gathered around him.

"There goes the ballgame, huh?" wondered Carter.

"Hard to find a way around this one," the Frenchman concurred.

Hogan nodded as Oskar walked up to them. "I'm thinking."

"Guess what," Oskar exclaimed as they walked toward the barracks, "I will be guarding you part of the day every day."

That's a little comforting, pondered Hogan as he walked dismally into his barracks. Oskar followed Hogan, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau as the Allied men mulled over the possibilities. With the prisoners mum in the barracks, the near-sixteen year old Oskar sat down his gun and pulled up a chair to

a card table. "I asked for this one, I told Herr Klink I wanted to be with the toughest to guard. Remember when we pulled that job last summer?"

"Hogan turned and remarked angrily, "Yeah, and darn near got yourself and my men killed - twice!"

LeBeau scolded, "Your father said you had nightmares for months after that."

"Plus, you lost a friend of yours," noted Kinch. "Even if he was close to eighteen and draftable, that isn't something you want to have happen."

"I know where he is," remarked the boy with an air of confidence, glancing toward Heaven. "He'd trusted Jesus as Messiah and Savior. And, yes, that was too scary. I do not want to go out again with you. From now on, I promise I will let you do whatever, and just see, hear, and know noth-ing."

The prisoners noticed a good deal of similarity between this statement and the way Schultz would insist "I know noth-ing!" He probably does know more than his dad, Hogan considered.

Still, he informed the youth, "You don't know nearly everything of what we do, though. You don't know contacts we might need to bring in. Yu never saw our codes, and we have to read coded messages in here. You don't know a lot of other things, either." He referred to a bug in Klink's office which allowed them to listen in on conversations, and the Underground path for getting escaped prisoners back to England. "You're as familiar with our operation as new prisoners, maybe a little more, but even when they're legit

you saw when you ran away to join the Underground and ran into my men we don't tell most prisoners a third of what goes on. They make uniforms or ID tags, or they do other little tasks, with little clue as to why, except they're hurting the Germans and they can't escape or it'll ruin Klink's record. And even if you did ignore us, they have to do those things in their barracks or leave via tunnel entrances, and they can't with your friends there."

Hogan sighed, slowly shaking his head. Why was he, a single, ladies' man, sounding like his own father? He'd never considered having kids; his love was the military. And yet, seeing the peach fuzz-lined faces that came into camp on both sides lately made him want to end this war that much faster, and made him want to lecture every kid he could about staying out of it. Especially out of his line of work.

Oskar felt insulted at the colonel's tone. In his typical teenager fashion, Hogan's comments made him a little more daring to be involved, though he also hoped, in a way, Hogan wouldn't let him. The dual desires represented what many children go through, though usually not on this scale. "I would

not let anything slip, I'll show you. I could slip off these clothes and make myself a prisoner right now, if I wanted to."

Hogan stood and placed his hands on his hips. "We're not starting that again! I told you before Underground work was too dangerous, and you had to learn the hard way. I'm not letting you do it again!"

The boy sulked as he folded his arms and sat back lazily in his chair. Hogan shook his head and walked slowly into his office. Good grief, he considered, I am my own father. This is just how he acted when I told him I was joining the Army at 17.

After a short time, Kinch walked into the office. "Hey, Colonel." He didn't want the colonel to think something was terribly wrong, but he knew Hogan had been a little more tense the last couple days as it was. "I just wanted to let you know...I'm here if you need to talk."

Hogan forced a tiny grin as he turned to the man in whom he could confide best in the camp. The dark, mustached figure had been an expert radio man for three years, but more importantly, had always seemed able to keep his composure. It was lonely at the top, especially for the commander of such a major operation. Hogan hated to admit it, but sometimes he needed to talk to someone like Kinch, who was so good at just listening. He was certainly better than Carter, Newkirk, or LeBeau, all of whom had been known to be too rash at times.

"It's okay, Kinch, it's just all these kids coming in, sometimes I wonder what we're doing, what we're teaching them..." He trailed off.

Kinch could tell something had been bothering Hogan, and took a guess. "Still thinking about Dresden, huh?" He'd heard of the great firestorm which rained down on the city earlier that month. It reminded him of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Hogan nodded glumly. "Yeah, I know if we had the atomic bomb we would have used that, and probably done even more damage. Still, I can't help but wonder if it was necessary."

"Maybe it just wasn't ours to judge anymore; maybe this was God judging them." At least, Kinch thought to himself, it helps to think that at a time like this.

Hogan smiled. He'd grown to appreciate the very quiet and pensive Kinch. His face had likely helped immensely on those long nights when Hogan and others would go out on missions, and the black fellow - who would never make a believable Nazi - remained stuck in the radio room. Hogan admired the faith of the man, especially with so much adversity back home, because of his own country's racism.

Turning slightly away, Hogan pondered the firestorm. How many people were lost who really didn't support the Nazis? If we'd been there, could we have gotten agents out, for instance? He murmured "I know, we can't save everyone." He peeked out the door of his office. LeBeau had softened the youthful guard up a little by discussing girls with him. Turning back to Kinch, he continued. "But, when I see young kids like this, who have been indoctrinated into that garbage, it makes me sick."

He sighed, telling himself there must be a way to convince them not to follow Hitler. I suppose we could get these Hitler Youth to do something that would discredit them, pondered the colonel, but old Blood and Guts Klink would just bring more in. After all, this was partly Burkhalter's notion, he'd never go

against the will of a superior, and Burkhalter won't be cowed. And, besides, that wouldn't get these kids away from the evil.

Perhaps the youths could be persuaded to turn traitor. But, could these kids, even given their immaturity, be much easier to lead than Schultz, who had taken quite a while to train completely? The war would surely be over by the time they succeeded.

Hogan rubbed his chin. Kinch could tell the head POW needed time to just be alone. "Want me to

radio London and tell them what's going on?"

"Yeah, Kinch, go tell London."

Kinch walked out, but not half a minute later, as Hogan lay on his bunk with his cap over his eyes, someone entered his office. That was way too fast to get a message to London, the American colonel pondered as he gazed at Richard Baker, the assistant radio man, another black American sergeant who relieved Kinch at times. He had ducked into the barracks and down to the radio room after they'd been counted.

"Klink and Schultz just showed up," Baker explained in a tone which implied that Hogan would be better off not hearing this unless he was in a very good mood.

The colonel, mumbling "might as well get this over with," stood and prepared to enter the main part of the barracks. Could they learn about troop movements, he pondered, and use the Hitler Youth to support a misinformation campaign? The thought intrigued him, but he hated to lie to them outright. They'd been lied to by their own people enough. He wanted to make sure they believed the truth later when he told them...what? What did he want to tell them, that would sway them? And, how?

Baker spoke lowly. "The radio's giving out again, all the bombing and the general wear. We need parts."

Hogan nodded grimly. "We're usually the ones getting parts to others. Well, see what you can scrounge up."

They walked into the main barracks to hear the tail end of a fanciful story told by Oskar regarding the "fire and brimstone" he was spewing at the prisoners.

Klink turned to Schultz, unable to resist teasing the obese man. "You see, Schultz, your son has the right idea. You could be mistaken for a friend, with how you act. He comes in here and has been dousing their spirits every second. Depressing them like they should be."

"Why should they be depressed?" Schultz inquired.

Klink held out his hands. "Schultz, don't you know anything? They are prisoners, they're supposed to be depressed."

"That he has," agreed Newkirk, determining that their commander would approve of this ad lib on Oskar's part.

Hogan quickly determined what Oskar was doing. "Oh, yes, he is blustery, but I know he's lying; you can't be winning that easily."

"Then why did you feel you had to leave the room," Oskar inquired, smirking. Careful, Hogan thought, don't overdo it.

Newkirk shrugged. "I'd be depressed anyway, just thinkin' about home."

"Yeah, I can't wait to have a great big piece of Mom's apple pie," Carter said while reminiscing. "Boy, there's nothing that comes close."

LeBeau glared, incensed. "What's wrong with my strudel?"

"Hey, you Frenchmen just cook things too fancy. Why can't you just grill a simple hamburger for a change?" groused Carter.

"Maybe you would prefer to eat cardboard like that pizza..."

Hogan held up his hands. "All right, pipe down. I know we all miss home, we all want to go back. We want to make sure we go back as friends, though."

"Oui. And Schultz here can tell you there is nothing like my strudel; right, Schultzie?"

The fat sergeant smiled. It sounded just like a sibling spat. Calmly, he noted, "I have never tasted Mrs. Carter's apple pie. Tell you what; after the war we will get together, and I will do a taste test." He grinned as Carter and LeBeau agreed, and he, Klink, and Oskar prepared to leave for what would likely be the last trip home of the war for Schultz and his eldest son.

"This young lad will guard you till four o'clock this afternoon. His name is Eric." Klink glanced at the newcomer, then back at the Allies. "Sergeant Schultz has to take Oskar home for some things, like his records from when he was here before. Oskar was at a Hitler Youth rally in Bonn when General Burkhalter said he thought he spotted him. We both determined that he was no longer contagious, we brought him here, and the rest is history." Klink rubbed the palms of his hands and gloated.. "My perfect record of no escapes will now be totally and completely secure forever."

"Don't press your luck, my men might be more desparate," Hogan cracked.

The youthful Eric harrumphed, and Klink, Schultz, and Oskar left. A second later, Klink returned, inquiring as to Kinch's whereabouts.

"I think I saw him talking to one of the prisoners in Barracks 8," Hogan explained. That barracks 8 housed half a dozen recently captured black prisoners.

"I see. I wondered because he is usually with you. Well, carry on." Klink saluted and left.

Okay, now how to get Kinch up with this kid here? Hogan determined that this plan would only work once, but it was necessary. Another idea of his, a fake fight, might not work; a teenage guard would not normally be expected to break up an imaginary scuffle between two prisoners. He'd probably like to see my men fight to the death, considered the head POW, grumbling a little.

Hogan hollered "cover your eyes" in German, and several of his men ducked as if expecting an explosion. LeBeau quickly ran over to the bunk and knocked twice, lifting it to allow Kinch to exit. The bunk lowered just before the guard opened his eyes and glowered, feeling that someone had just played a cruel trick on him. At least they are all still here, Eric pondered, terribly miffed.

Hogan and Kinch walked into the colonel's office. "Get through to London, Kinch?" Hogan whispered.

"'Fraid not. Radio's given out, we've been doing so much."

Hogan lowered his head as they walked back into the barracks. Well, maybe we're shut down for good. No, there'ss got to be a way to beat this rap. He just had to think.

After a couple more moments, Carter decided Eric was simly too shy. He knew how that felt at times.. "Hey, good to meet you, Eric, I'm Andrew Carter," came the American as he walked up and extended a hand. Eric refused to move.

"Blimey, 'e'd make a good guard at Buckingham Palace," noted the Englishman.

"Yeah, he stands so straight he looks like swallowed a baton," LeBeau chided. He walked up to Eric and asked "what would you like me to cook you for lunch?"

"Yeah, LeBeau makes some great strudel," Carter remarked, whispering in Eric's ear, "not as good as my mom's apple pie, though."

Eric frowned. They had been speaking German for him. While they felt he might not know English, they wanted to take no chances discussing missions.

"I heard that," LeBeau exclaimed.

Carter smirked at LeBeau's response. He recalled how if his younger brother would be sulking his parents would call on him to humor him until he stopped. Carter's unintentional goofs often turned frowns upside down as much as intentional jokes. "Ooh, was that a smile? I thought I saw those lips perk up. Hey, he smiled, everyone! Does someone have a camera...oops, too late, he stopped smiling. Guess we'll have to

go to the pie in your face routine, huh?"

He continued to study the boy's stoic demeanor. "Hey, pal, why don't you say something?"

"Maybe 'is mother warned him never to talk to strangers before he came here," joked Newkirk. All but Kinch and Hogan laughed. The latter two snickered, then noticed a very offended look on Eric's face.

Kinch walked up to Eric. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"What do you care?" hissed the lad.

Hogan sensed that something bothered the boy. He wasn't sure what, but he knew for any kind of a relationship to form, to even allow them to do a little covert work, they needed to help this lad. "Look, whatever it is...If one of my men said something to hurt you, just tell us what it is. Just staring at us and being mad isn't doing us or you any good."

Eric thought for a moment, then suddenly spouted, "All right, you thugs want to know? My parents and baby sister were killed by your stupid bombers!"

Newkirk felt like crawling into one of the knotholes in the table and hiding. He muttered "I'm sorry, mate."

The others expressed shock and sadness at what had happened to such a youngster - how old was he, anyway. Was now the proper time to ask?

"I'm sorry, too. I just...never gave it any thought," Carter remarked kindly.

"You barbarians never think, do you," shouted Eric. "You just bomb, bomb, bomb, and never pay attention to the civilians. If you would just let our country live in peace we would not have these problems!"

LeBeau let "you invaded France first" slip from his mouth before he could stop it.

Eric lunged at LeBeau, but Kinch and Carter held him back, Carter lowly telling him to calm down. Hogan held LeBeau and said in English, "Easy, we don't want to make him any madder at us than he is."

LeBeau quickly settled. How can you say such a thing, Louis, he asked himself, after what he's been through? "You are right, it was stupid of me to say that, but he knows we didn't start the war, they did."

"That's how they're taught to think, LeBeau, it keeps them from reasoning about how bad their leaders are. You ought to tell him what you just said to me, but in German."

"But, Colonel..."

"Do it, LeBeau, so we don't have part of the war breaking out here!"

LeBeau sighed, then turned to the somewhat calmer Eric and said, "I'm sorry, that was a dumb thing for me to say." Muttering to himself in French, he said "even if it is the truth."

Trying to think of ways to get Eric to open up to them, Carter admitted, "My brother's about five years younger than me. I can't imagine how I'd feel to lose him. How old was your sister?"

"She would have been five next week." Eric inhaled deeply. "I have another sister, eleven, she lived, but is in the hospital, even a couple weeks later!"

Hogan cringed, realizing that the timing made it sound like they might have died in the Dresden bombing. He couldn't bring himself to ask.

Kinch reassured him that, "Our Lord promises of little ones 'their angels always see My Father's face.' She's in Heaven now, thanks to Jesus' precious blood, you can be sure of that."

"That is probably where you would like all Germans to be," exclaimed the lad. "Or maybe Hell sounds better to you miscreants."

Hogan fretted. If this kid didn't seem like such a loyal Nazi, he would have loved to tell him about the Underground, and about how much respect he held for some Germans. Sure, Germans wanted to kill civilians, but his nation never felt like that - did they? Or did they - after all, they didn't much care what they bombed in Dresden. Not that the Heroes were perfect in their bombing, but they'd tried to hit military targets before then. Then, he recalled the atomic bomb - he knew the Allies had been working on one. Perhaps war had gotten so destructive, there was no such thing as innocents anymore.

To Eric, the colonel remarked, "We don't like to see civilians get hurt any more than you do."

"We'd even go visit your sister in the hospital, maybe we can take her some gifts, if you let..."

"Carter!" Hogan understood the gesture, but was afraid Carter might leak something about the operation if he continued.

Eric glanced at Carter. The idea seemed quite odd, but the American appeared sincere to him as he pressed onward. He hated most Allies, but maybe this one was okay. He'd do anything to visit her. "Would you...really?" came the hesitant query.

"Oh, sure, we can get out..."

"Carter," Hogan warned in English, "remember, loose lips sink ships." Newkirk rolled his eyes.

Carter cowered a little at the glare. Suddenly, he realized what Hogan meant. "Oh, I get it." It took him a while to catch on things sometimes. He recalled once when they were building this fake invention to fool the Germans. It was just a bunch of things thrown together, and Carter had known it wsn't supposed to work. And yet, he'd handed Hogan something and asked where it went. Then, there was the time he'd been asked to guess Klink's age, and he guessed 59. When Klink said he was ten yers off, he'd just naturally turned to Hogan and said, "Wow, can you believe the colonel's 69? He just hadn't grasped that Klink wouldn't be upset if he'd guessed ten fewer, so he must have guessed ten too high.

Still, despite his flubs, he was an exceptional member of Hogan's Heroes - not just for his knowledge of explosives, which he was really fixated on at times, but also because even his strange ideas sometimes wound up being used successfully.

Eric thought for a moment. At least one person in their barracks understands. And, this likely was sincere - why else would the commanding POW sound like he was so upset - and what had he warned in English? To Eric, the Allies were cold-blooded, but he still harbored the youthful hope that maybe there were some good people there, like this Carter fellow.

He motioned Carter over to an unoccupied corner of their barracks. "I can see your commanding officer does not want you visiting and being friendly, but...I have not been to see her in over a week. I am sure she is lonely, and I miss her so much. She is all the close family I have left, and I all she has." He thought a minute. "What did you mean by getting out?"

Carter lowered his head. He suddenly realized this could be a trap. However, a kid who's just lost his parents and a sister like this, to him, would not be thinking of laying a trap; he wasn't thinking of the possibility that Eric might have made up the part about his family. "Well, you see," he told him, trying to come up with a way to get him out without revealing the tunnel system or their escape center, "we work on the commandant's cars. We'd just have to get you one, and you can drive there."

"I cannot drive, I am only 14." He thought a minute. "I want you to drive."

"But…"

"You said you would visit." Eric stared menacingly, sounding hurt. "Or did you not mean it when you acted like a friend."

Carter couldn't stand to let this lad down. However, he indicated that, "I don't think we can do it if it's way over in Dresden."

"She is in Frankfurt,"Eric said casually. "Dresden was an act of butchery, but there are many other cities which your bombers have ravaged. We can go tomorrow while I am on duty."

Carter said nothing. Instead,thoughts of what Hogan might say and the confusing mess he'd gotten himself into swirled through his head.

The young man stomped over to the door, grabbed his rifle, and stood in front of the entrance. "Then it is settled, you will go with me to visit my sister in Frankfurt tomorrow."

Hogan glared at Carter, who shrugged sheepishly. Gesturing for Carter to come into his office, Hogan led him in and shut the door. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Well, she's a little girl, and she's hurt and lonely..."

"Did it ever occur to you that this could be a Gestapo trap? And, how are we going to check his story when we can't get a working radio!" Hogan fumed.

Newkirk popped into the office and whispered in Hogan's ear. "Burkhalter just pulled up, they're going into Klink's office with some maps."

Hogan instructed Newkirk to signal for lots of impromptu racket. Meanwhile, he and Carter pulled out the coffeepot which housed a secret receiving device, attached to a bug in Klink's office.

They listened carefully, jotting down everything as three languages were shouted simultaneously in the outer barracks. Good thing this is in here, Hogan pondered.

While the two listened, the prisoners in the barracks were having loads of fun. Eric put his hands to his ears and tried to order them to argue in a language he understood better. LeBeau and Newkirk pretended to scuffle. The commotion lasted until Hogan and Carter caught a hint of what was said in Klink's office. Carter stepped out of the office and flashed an OK sign, grinning ear to ear.

Now that probably won't work again, the head POW told himself as Carter returned. Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau slipped into Hogan's office, and the five huddled.

"Something important?" LeBeau asked.

"It's a biggies, all right. All the bridges along the Rhine have been blown up except one - at Remagen. They plan a 'miraculous breakout,' in Burkhalter's words, later." Now, Robert, can you figure out how to get this to the Allies.

Turning back to Carter, Hogan absently dismissed the others and said , "Even if we knew any contacts in Dresden, I can't see how we could get in touch with them."

"She's not in Dresden, she's in Frankfurt."

Hogan muttered inaudibly. Maybe you should go into research, Robert, and develop guided bombs that wouldn't kill civilians. Yes, a Gestapo plotter would have been more likely to name Dresden as his home. Still, part of him worried this could easily be a trap. "We still need to get you to an agent tonight. And, I don't know how you expect to get into town, much less to Frankfurt, in that Allied uniform; you sure can't get into the tunnel and change into Gestapo with one of those goons standing guard."

"Well..." Carter smiled apologetically. "I guess I hadn't thought about that."

"Okay, and then there's Oskar not being back till late. True, we could sneak you out between guard changes, or LeBeau could drug a kid's drink, but could we get him to drink something at that time of night? You see what all I have to think about when planning something; I don't just go off and say 'Let's visit somebody.'"

Carter suggested, "If we could just use the phone in the tunnel and call I can go tomorrow."

"What do you mean, tomorrow. First, if it is a trap they'll know to lie and say she's there. Second..."

Hogan stopped for a moment. Maybe this was a way to get to someone - this was vital enough to try and get it to London. Knowing about Remagen, a very out of the way place, could save the Allies weeks. "Wait a minute. Carter, you may have just gotten us a way to get this information out."

"Really? I mean..that's great, but I was just thinking of visiting that girl."

"You can do that," Hogan confirmed, "if we can figure out a way to get you to the contact. There have been too many radio detection trucks in town lately, but if it's legit - that's a big 'if' - I'll go with you and get some info to one of our Frankfurt people."

"He doesn't trust you; he thinks you don't want me to go."

Hogan nodded. "That's okay, we can say you convinced me, and that I would ride along as chaperone, to keep you in line."

Carter thanked Hogan, began to leave his office, then stopped. Turning around, he pointed at Hogan's bomber jacket. "Uh, in that, Sir?"

"We'll work on that when the time comes. We do need to try hard on this one." Our men were really worried about the Rhine, Hogan considered. The info on Remagen is too important.

The sweet aroma of the prisoners' hot chocolate - made partly from old candy bars - was too much for the next youthful guard to resist. A sixteen-year-old named Frederick took several sips, then fell asleep at the door. Once the cup was taken away, Carter snuck out of camp. Good thing these kids are still somewhat gullible, thought Hogan. Laughing as he thought back to his teenage days, he considered that perhaps it was just the huge appetites teens had.

Whichever it was, Carter went out to talk to someone named Little Boy Blue. A dentist, he concurred that using a radio in town would draw unwanted attention. He confirmed Hogan's fears, that the Gestapo were on the prowl. Even if they weren't, wartime shortages made everything hard to come by these last days.

He agreed to sneak out and contact someone to check on Eric's story. "I will contact Schnitzer to have him bring new dogs in after roll call, and bring word. It will be tricky, but if we wake someone up I am sure they can find out something. Here is a coded message concerning our man in Frankfurt."

Hogan read the note back in their barracks, then smiled as he outlined the plan to get the information to a member of the Frankfurt Underground.

However, that was interrupted by a yelp from Carter. "We could be out of here in less than a month!" Similar shouts erupted from the other prisoners' lips, as they were now confident that the Allies would receive this information.

Hogan calmed his men with an open hand. "First, let's get this information out. We cannot lose focus; we need to pass this information ourselves to this contact, just so the Germans don't intercept. They're using Remagen because they think we won't find it; if they know we know, they're likely to blow it up, anyway, and there go our advances. We may still have a number of other important jobs ahead of us."

A tear came to Hogan's eyes. I guess I can't hide it after all, he considered, allowing his thoughts to emerge. "But, yes; we might be going home very soon."

He allowed himself a contented sigh before going on with his instructions.

"The nearest agent to that particular hospital is in a lawyer's office, Karl Doberman, Esquire."

Newkirk smiled. "Fittin' name for a lawyer."

"Especially if he does divorce work," noted the Frenchman.

"Do we need an appointment?" The query was Kinch's

"Our man will tell him we'll be in. He widely fluctuates the hours he handles his Underground work, so the Gestapo can't expect it." Hogan committed his pseudonym to memory. They'd told Eric he and Carter would go as civilians, so as not to arouse suspicion. Eric knew nothing of the phony names or ID tags. "If it is all right, Shnitzer will bring a dog named Hansel. If not, he'll bring in a dog named Gretel, and we'll know it's a trap.

Right after roll call the next morning, Hogan and Carter pondered the enormity of the mission. They would get information to the Allies that could cause them to be liberated within a couple weeks. Hogan had to physically restrain Carter from jumping for joy several times while they were in formation.

Schultz counted the prisoners, then walked over to the gate to allow Shnitzer to change dogs. Schnitzre had explained that a couple of the dogs formerly given to them had not been given proper training, due to a mixup.

Hogan followed, asking, "What is that dog's name?" as the handler got the dog out of the truck.

"The dog's name is Hansel."

The German Shepherd sniffed Hogan, then began licking his fingers. "Fitting name, Hans. Just like Schultz, you expect a treat every time, huh?" The colonel smiled, pulling out a dog biscuit. Where does he get those, Schultz wondered as Hogan tossed it in the air, and the dog caught it on the fly. "He ought

to be in the Luftwaffe, he catches things in the air better than any of the German pilots."

"Ha, you jolly joker," declared Schultz.

Hogan, Carter, and Eric snuck into the motor pool. They pulled up to the main gate, which opened quickly. This was something Eric had not considered, but his desire to see the only member of his immediate family still alive, thanks to the continued encouragement by the prisoners, had overwhelmed any sense of duty. He therefore had no need to hear that Newkirk had called the front gate and impersonated Klink, telling the guard to open the gate at once.

Carter drove, possessing phony papers which, like the clothing, Eric thought were supplied by Klink. Hogan considered the countryside. There was so much this lad didn't understand, he thought to himself. He's more gullible than I expected - then again, who wouldn't be at 14? He still thought so much about family. Once he was away from his peers, amongst the prisoners, Eric had begun to soften. Hogan again silently cursed the brutal indoctrination into wickedness that these kids had been forced to go through.

Oh, well, he considered, they'll find out soon enough. News of Auschwitz and other camps had already begun to filter in to Hogan - not that he hadn't suspected something like that over the last year and a half, but he never expected it could have occurred on the scale he was hearing about; and that scale was just a portion of what had actually taken place. These kids will learn what monsters these are. Hogan just couldn't help but want them to learn right now, so they could be protected. He grinned inwardly, but didn't allow himself to show it.

Protect - there I go again. With Schultz's son last year, and now these kids, I'm becoming like a father without realizing it, the head POW considered. Will I want to go in and help with some other Underground chores before Germany finally surrenders? No, Robert, don't kid yourself, this war has taken a toll on you far greater than you ever thought it would. And you know full well you'll feel sick to your stomach when you see that helpless girl in that hospital room. You want to save the world, Robert, and you know you can't, just like with Dresden, wondering who there might have been willing to throw off the German yoke. It's going to eat at you more and more if you don't quit once you get liberated.

Eric smiled as they pulled up to the hospital where his sister was staying. He'd been told by Oskar that these were "very special friends," and he could see why. He didn't comprehend that they risked capture if they were caught, feeling Klink had authorized this visit. As he should, Eric thought to himself. Our leaders say that we are very compassionate. We care in ways the Allies - okay, most of the Allies - don't. But this Carter, he's a nice guy. And Hogan's okay, too, at least he's gone along with it.

Hogan had planned to feign sickness and ask to be excused form the hospital room. Then, he saw the bomb-ravaged building, the scars on the girl's face, and...what twisted limbs? Her legs were completely gone! These made him gasp. Only soldiers were supposed to lose limbs, he told himself, excusing himself from the room. Come on, Robert, you know there are British kids suffering like this, too. esides, you're going to help end this war right now.

He glanced back as Carter and Eric sat there weeping slightly as they spoke to the girl, whose name was Eva. The thought of that girl living her life with those scars and without legs haunted him as he walked to Doberman's office.

The attorney awaited him at the front door, and quickly escorted him to his secretary. "This is Herr Hebner, he is helping on the Klink estate." The secretary nodded as the two passed her and walked toward the inner office.

"Your kommandant's grandfather, who lives in Bonn, is getting quite senile at 92. I am handling some land he holds in Frankfurt, and so that was a clever way to get you here. You can tell all about Stalag 13 if you must, plus you know Klink."

Hogan nodded. This man is on top of things, he told himself.

To Hogan's astonishment, five others were in Doberman's office when they walked in, and he suspected a trap. However, the gathered people expressed relief as Doberman closed the door and announced "this is Papa Bear."

"At last," someone cried.

"We thought you were only a legend," spoke an elderly man.

Hogan nearly blushed. I'm just a colonel, not the Lone Ranger, he thought to himself, wishing he could be for once. Maybe then, he could have saved that girl's legs.

"I'm here to pass on some important information. The sky is blue over Dusseldorf," came the code.

"We can do that later," the attorney spouted. "We need your help desparately."

Chapter Two

"You need my help," Hogan said in a stunned and perplexed voice. "What gives?" He repeated the code, and added, "Let's get this out of the way first," trying to hint at its importance.

In an annoyed tone, Doberman said "The flowers soon will bloom in Stutgart."

"Like the lillies among the lush green fields of Remagen," remarked the colonel, whispering so the others couldn't hear, just in case. "You must get the message out. The bridge there will be untouched."

Doberman furrowed his brow. He wished Hammelburg Gestapo hadn't come down so hard in the last few months, but they had. There was little hope of anyone getting a message out there, leaving him and a colleague in Dusseldorf to handle much of the transmissions from Hogan. "Fine. Now, let me tell you what has transpired since last night. These are leaders of a small resistance movement - nothing like Hammelburg's was. But, it was special, the largest anywhere except for Denmark." Hogan nodded his understanding. "We have several dozen who are in danger and possibly under surveillance. A key operative has been captured, and you may need to get him out of Gestapo hands if you can."

"It'd be risky."

"Yes, and if you cannot he understands, I am sure. However, he has the names of many of our people, and yours. A number of Underground people, a half dozen or so Jews..." He waited to see if Hogan comprehended why Jews were in danger. The grim look indicated he did. "...and the families of a few workers in other areas who are threatened. The Gestapo knows its end is near, I believe; and they wish to take out every last person they can."

Hogan paused to think. Oskar would have guard duty from four till ten today and tomorrow evening, unless they could get him switched with Eric. Even at that, it was difficult to imagine what could be done with another guard taking over later. Now, they weren't pressed for time because Oskar was the next guard on duty. He would understand why Hogan and Carter weren't there. Hed fret about not being allowed to come along, but that was it.

However, if they went out tomorrow and didn't make it back till after ten, which was likely, what would be done? And, could anything be done with any of the other men...make that boys in the other barracks?

Hogan sighed. "We'll see what we can do. I could get my men to help now, except we don't have a radio ourselves."

"That is all right, I prefer to function without one as well. Although I know where we could get one in an emergency," Doberman asserted. He provided several other details.

The one who'd shouted "at last" raised his hand. "Excuse me, we have heard so much. Can you tell us anything about your operation; at least whether the more amazing tales are true?"

Hogan couldn't imagine his work was legendary, but in an era where only evil surrounded the civilians, perhaps they needed to build someone such as himself to legendary status. "I don't know what you've heard, and I can't really comment, anyway. However, I'll do my best this time, I can promise that. Remember, Herr Doberman, try to get that bit out as soon as possible." With that, he departed.

They might be worried to death by now, Hogan mused, noticing the time on a large clock. Sneaking back to the hospital, Hogan motioned to Carter and Eric from outside the room. They failed to notice him, so he walked into the room, clearing his throat heavily.

Carter looked up at Hogan, then at the clock. "My goodness, look at the time. It seemed like only a couple minutes."

"Thanks for your concern," came the slightly sarcastic comment. Hogan mumbled a quick "hello" to Eva and said, "We need to be going, before the next shift." He wanted to keep Eric from knowing about Oskar's friendliness unless it was absolutely necessary.

The girl spoke from the hospital bed. "I am feeling better, danke for the visit."

"You're welcome," Carter said as everyone tarried, unsure of how to depart. It was especially hard knowing that she would be alone again, except for the nurses; who were nice, but very overworked. Hogan tried to make small talk, but couldn't think of what to say. "When will you be able to go home" almost crossed his lips, but he was able to squelch it. What will she call home, Hogan wondered.

Finally, after a more forceful "let's go," Eric got up to leave, kissing Eva on the cheek.

"I look forward to tasting some of that apple pie," Eva remarked as they walked out the door. Carter grinned broadly, glad to have made a difference.

Eric, not wishing to seem too thankful toward the enemy, expressed a desire to come here again. "I will let him know how thankful I am, then I can come again whenever Kommandant Klink will let me."

"Look," Hogan quickly interjected as they left, "don't mention it to the Kommandant, he, well..." Hogan considered that the truth might make the most sense here. "He's too vain to hear a thank you and not go off on a twenty minute spiel about how warm and compassionate he is. I mean, you probably heard him brag about his no-escape record over and over."

"That is true. Very well. I will relay it through the Master Sergeant," ERic announced, allowing a small look of thanks to cross his face. He recalled Klink sounding very pompous, it seemed, and was secretly glad Hogan had reminded him of that. Although, part of him ws so thankful - when he didn't think he'd be able to see her for months - that he wished to respond personally, anyway.

Hogan was satisfied with this, as such a comment from Schultz would simply be dismissed as being ridiculous if he relayed a message of thanks for something Klink never did. It wouldn't hurt Eric or them. And, Schultz could probably be counted on to not even relay the thanks if Hogan could come up with a good enough reason.

As the trio rode back into Stalag 13, many things went through Hogan's mind. Could they or Frankfurt get a message to London concerning the need for an aircraft? If one of his men could sneak out right after supper into Dusseldorf, and return before Oskar left, perhaps. He might even try and relay the information about Remagen, so it came from two sources.

As expected, the drive from Frankfurt took them till just after five in the evening. Oskar glared at Hogan and Carter as they walked into the barracks. Kinch grinned as Hogan quipped "Sorry we're late, Dad."

"I just told him it was one of those times where his dad would say 'I know nothing' and forget it,"

Kinch explained.

"Yes, but he is sergeant of the guard," Oskar protested. "If I am going to get in trouble I would like to actually be doing something, not just ignoring you."

"Don't worry, it'll only happen for sure once more," Hogan explained. "If we can figure a way around this," he remarked, motioning his men over to a card table and pulling up a chair.

Glaring at Oskar, standing right beside him, Hogan uttered "Stay out of this."

"If I am going to get in trouble, I want to be involved," the lad repeated.

Hogan began to say something, then turned around. It's no use, he said to himself, wondering if all teens were this way. I wasn't like that then - was I?

"Okay, men; I met with the contact, and there were five others in the room. The contact said they needed our help desperately."

"All of you were there?" LeBeau inquired, incredulous.

"No, Eric and I spent the whole time at the hospital with his sister, Eva," Carter informed them. "I was telling her all about home, and Mom's apple pie; she can't wait to try some."

LeBeau pounded the table. "Oh, yeah. Next time you go, I am baking an apple strudel for her. We'll see what she says then about your mom's apple pie."

"How was she?" Kinch asked.

"She's taken it pretty hard, but she really beamed after a while. I told her she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen."

Newkirk laughed. "Really robbin' the cradle, eh, Andrew? You gonna take her dancin' next time?"

Carter rebuked Newkirk seconds before Hogan and Oskar would have. "For your information, she doesn't have any legs."

Solemnly, Newkirk put his head down. "If you don't mind, I think I'll shut up till the war's over."

"Good idea," Hogan said tiredly before continuing with his story. "Anyway, they need our help for a big breakout, maybe a few dozen people."

"Sounds like a big Gestapo roundup," noted Kinch.

Oskar raised his eyebrows and tried to listen in. Though his English wasn't great, he could understand some of it.

"We might need to get as many as thirty out," he told the others in the barracks. Hogan fretted. With that many, they'd almost be better off cramming them into a plane; that is, if they weren't going into some secluded area of the Black Forest, about ten miles east of Bonn. Not too far, but it might be dangerous because unless Oskar shifted to night duty, they would have to go out in the daylight. Even then, the guards had been given only six hour shifts, because of their youthfulness. So, that proposition was dicey, because they would start at four, and have to contend with another coming on second. A plane could land at an airfield in Bonn and take up some, if the Underground could locate a usable one. How they would get the rest remained a mystery. How many could stay in the tunnels for a while?

He walked over and pulled down a map. "The Bonn area is closer than Frankfurt, but..." He pondered the distances to be travelled. "One group already had to come up from Heidelberg."

Looking at Oskar, he decided he'd better tell him now. "Your mom and siblings are all right, but they're in Frankfurt now; the Gestapo got wind of that stunt we pulled keeping you out of action. Combined with the capture of an agent who knew your mom as the one code named 'The Fairy Godmother,' they decided it was best to leave this morning."

One reason Schultz acted like a swinging single with ladies at times, even dating one once, was so it could seem like he had not connection to Gretchen, who had helped a few Jewish families; Schultz hd done the same before being drafted; Schultz had terribly disliked the antagonistic attitude of their leaders toward Jews, expected that everyone should just be nice to each other. There were enough little things that Oskar had wanted to join the Underground the previous year, and now it was deemed best the the entire family relocate.

Oskar stepped forward. "I am going with you to get them out of Germany."

"I'm sorry, they're already..." Hogan wanted to say "in enough trouble," but he wished to allay the boy's fears. "Look, you know we'll get them out, they're safe for now, because the Gestapo doesn't know about this hiding place. In fact, they might not have done more than question them if they had stayed, but they wanted to play it safe." And, Hogan was entirely truthful in that regard; but, he also knew it was always wise to play it safe in such a situation, rather than risk the Gestapo finding something. "What we need most for you to do is ignore us, act like we're still here when we're gone."

Hogan formulated a plan whereby they could have 12 hours to work, and hope for the best. Over half would be in daylight, but that was a risk they would have to take. "Carter, you're going with Eric back to Frankfurt tomorrow."

"Me?" Carter hadn't expected that his goodwill mission would become part of such a large mission.

"Yes, you. We have to keep him out of our hair, and like it or not, it's the only way. LeBeau, make that strudel, and a special meal. We'll collect some other presents; Kinch has a library of books, including some childrens' books, in the radio room. The important thing is, Eric has to come back after he's off duty, so Oskar, you can come on duty, and say we're all here."

Hogan thought a minute. How was he going to convince Oskar not to come for the first six hours? That, he determined, would be by conning Klink into utilizing Oskar elsewhere.

To Hogan's surprise - and chagrin, for it meant things would be tightening up even more - Oskar announced that Klink had already provided the means. His eyes lit up. "Between my dad and the kommandant, I am getting placed in many important roles. The Hitler Youth guards are also in charge of regulating many other activities, thanks to the thousand or more new arrivals in Stalag 13 in recent months. I came by just after 10 this morning to call you out for mandatory exercises."

Hogan held his head in his hand as Oskar related the story.

Oskar had entered the barracks expecting all to be present. He was surprised Eric was not there. "Are Colonel Hogan and Sergeant Carter already in the compound," he inquired.

"Dn't you see them out there," inquired the Frenchman.

Oskar shook his head. "My dad said they came back in here after roll call, and he did not see them come back out. Did he miss them?"

"No," Kinch said, hoping Oskar would simply go away.

Raising an eyebrow, Oskar asked, "Would you mind telling me where they are?"

"As a matter of fact, we would," Newkirk advised him, stepped up to him and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Nothin' personal, though."

"Oui, it's just that we know what you might feel duty-bound to do if you knew," came the Frenchman.

"If I knew..." Oskar exhaled, pressing his lips tightly together just as his dad would. "Look, I am

to call you out for exercises. These others with the Hitler Youth actually want our side to win. They will be checking up on them if they are not here. Now what am I supposed to do?"

Kinch decided it was time for a little fancy maneuvering. "Look, go tell your dad Eric went to visit a sick relative and Hogan and Carter went along. He'll understand."

"Is that the truth?"

"Partly."

Oskar left, shaking his head. When he informed his dad, the obese sergeant simply said, "Let me handle them, this is a job for an adult," and walked into Hogan's barracks.

Oskar couldn't help but giggle as his dad exited Barracks 2 minutes later, whimpering "I know nothing, I hear noth-ing!" At least now, he would have his father's backing. Moments later, the Hitler Youth were obediently ignoring the fact two men - and a guard - from Barracks 2 were missing.

Back In the present, Hogan nodded, only slightly satisfied. Difficulties with the Hitler Youth guards had translated into more efficient guard work, and perhaps many more regular activities. There hadn't been a problem so far, but they'd only been in this situation for a couple days. Soon, missions would require tailors and false IDs. He knew something would be needed to disable soldiers as the Allies approached them. Baker was already assessing the possibilities of the Heroes all using the remaining fake ID tags and fleeing Germany with the group near Bonn. They would likely be unable to make new ones. And yet, more prisoners and civilians might need help fleeing; nobody should have to die this close to the war's end. He just couldn't see how to stay afloat, though.

Colonel Hogan meandered into his office, stymied. If nothing else, he wanted to free those held captive now. There were quite a few. He felt he owed them something; not just for his previous ignorance of the atrocities against Jews, but for his own nation's bombing of civilians. Sure, he could always blame the leaders for their own civilians' deaths, but how do you explain that to a little girl who would never have any legs? The ideas, concerns, and pure misery of seeing what evils had been wrought in this war swirled in his mind.

As Hogan fretted, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau walked slowly into his office. "Hey, Colonel,"

Kinch remarked, "we have an idea, as a diversion, since they're watching these people so closely." Kinch had been chosen as the spokesman because of his closeness to Hogan.

"Go ahead," came the noncommittal response.

Kich placed his hands behind his back. "We...ah...we had something called Operation Sydney Carthon all lined up, in case you ever got caught."

"You what!" Hogan was aroused now, and stood up slowly. "That's not named after who I think it is, is it!"

Kinch nodded. Newkirk blurted out that "If everythin' went right, none of us would have to give his life to save you, or even be threatened, but it would have had to be perfect timin'."

Kinch explained. "Baker can handle most of my duties very well. My responsibility in shutting down is something we'd tutored him in, too. Once everything was destroyed, he'd lead the other men to the sub while we took just what we needed, disguised as Gestapo, and tried to make like someone else was the real Papa Bear."

Hogan nodded slowly as he listened to the plan. He at once felt great pride that his men thought so much of him, and great frustration that they wouldn't let him go down with the ship, as was his solemn, sworn duty as an officer protecting his underlings. "Who'd you have in mind," he wanted to know.

"That was the cause of a lot of debates," Kinch said, deliberately avoiding an answer. To them, it was still classified. "Of course, here it would be a lot easier. The person wouldn't be impersonating Papa Bear, they'd be impersonating some other Underground person. And, it would help us get the info about Remagen through to England."

Hogan roamed around his quarters. "Sounds like we could do it, though we'll need to make a few changes since we want to try and stay in business, even if I do have to take the rap."

"You, Colonel!"

"But, Mon Colonel..." LeBeau was speechless.

"Really, Sir, it should be me," Kinch argued, "because I'm the one most likely to be fighting against the idea of a master race."

Newkirk dismissed that idea. "Sir, if you look at me, I can fake death, I'm a good illusionist. I could trick 'em into thinking' I was dead an' they wouldn't have to shoot me."

"Yeah, probably," Kinch remarked, "but how can you guarantee that?"

"Plus, what if we need real explosives. We might need them more here, and I should stay behind till the last possible second with them," Carter insisted.

I can see why they fought over who would pretend to be Papa Bear, Hogan thought to himself. "Look, I said I was doing it, and that's final!" He couldn't stand the thought that the Nazis were hunting so many innocents, or that they had already slaughtered millions of innocents and he'd been unable to stop them. The loss of even one airman gnawed at Hogan. The peach fuzz in the camp now, exposed to hell through war far before they should have been, vexed him greatly. He knew if he allowed the SS or Gestapo to get at these several dozen people in Bonn it would forever torment him. Innocents weren't supposed to die in wartime at all, and even those who might have supported the fuhrer marginally in Dresden made him wish all the more to leave this insanity called the military once the war ended.

No, Robert, he told himself, you came here to save lives, and you have. And yet, how much more could he have done? "It's not inevitable that I die, or even that one of us is used as the bait," he reassured his men. "I know you'll take good care of me."

Kinch nodded glumly. "It is risky, though. Even just using it as a diversion, ad not even mentioning papa Bear, it's risky."

"We have to get that information out about Remagen, though. And, we're squeezed so tight, it might be impossible otherwise." He moved around the room a little. "We've put our lives on the line many times. This won't be any different. All right, here's the changes I think need to be made - and if I am captured, and I mean it, nobody come after me till all the others are rescued." As he began to list them, he hoped two things. One, that they could get around the numerous Hitler Youth; they would be rescuing more than one person, and thus might need people from other barracks. Second, that they could somehow keep the danger of the mission away from Oskar; somehow, Hogan knew he would insist on tagging along if he could.

Part of the plan, of course, involved getting one guard - Eric - away from the action. Carter would take Eric to Frankfurt once more, with LeBeau's delicacies and a number of small gifts. The latter were supposedly from guards but mostly from prisoners, though Schultz did send something. At an appropriate time, Eric would be called to the phone, where someone impersonating Klink would tell him to report to the rendezvous point. This would give Carter's going there an air of authenticity, and Eric - without a rifle - would be powerless to stop them. If they had to, they would tie him up and send him to England, but Hogan hoped he could be conned just like Schultz, or better yet, they would be ready to just go back with Eric to Stalag 13. Teens, after all, were still gullible.

This would give them 12 free hours. Hogan disliked doing things during the day, but with his men disguised as Gestapo, this kind of mission could be pulled off then. The portion under Oskar's guard would mostly be during the evening. If they went beyond that, Schultz and his son might have to escape with Baker and others as the camp was blown up.

The next day, Eric and Carter left without a hitch at precisely 10:02. Eric felt pleased that these prisoners were being so nice to him. As he and Carter made small talk, Eric decided he might even like the Allies a little. Why were their leaders then telling them how barbaric all the Allies were? Carter wouldn't say, for

fear of revealing any of the operation. He felt a little nervous that Eric now wished to thank Klink personally - a number of the gifts were said to be from him. However, maybe Eric could thank Klink over the phone when he got the "signal."

At 10:08, Hogan left with every other man from arracks 2 except Baker. All but Kinch wore Gestapo garb. The loss of every man from Barracks 2 made it easier for Oskar to explain - they had severely breached discipline, so they were confined to barracks. He expected a harsh lecture on overstepping his authority when Klink found out, but as the kommandant merely said, "Very well, carry on" as if nothing were amiss. Schultz explained that Klink was "Probably happy not to have to deal with Hogan."

Hogan and his men boarded three trucks purportedly carrying military supplies - Hogan, Newkirk, and LeBeau each drove one. Kinch was in one with cameras and several armed men.

Because all the bridges but that at Remagen had been destroyed, it was necessary to either go back north and get out via sub, fly the old B-10 which London was sending, or go on the bridge at Remagen to escape. The Heroes didn't want anyone suspecting they knew about Remagen, so that last was almost

certainly out. It would be nice if all those fleeing could fly in the airplane, Hogan mused as they travelled, but that would be cramped. However, the plans were such that it could, and probably would, be done. Hogan had contingency plans for many of the Underground people to go back to Stalag 13 and await transport via sub, though that, too, would be a tight fit. Some, he determined, could even swim across the Rhine, or he could send some straight to the sub without stopovers. However, the important thing now was to get people out of Germany and to a safe home.

There's that word again, Robert, he said to himself. He could tell the other men were also contemplating life back in their respectively countires. Especially LeBeau, now that France was totally free.

More than twenty people met the Heroes at the rendezvous point in Bonn. Included among these were a dozen children, including several Hogan recognized.

Gretchen Schultz walked up to Hogan as he and his men staked out positions. "Why have you come in those abominations and scared the children," she complained bitterly. Hogan recalled a friend of Oskar's using almost the same words.

"Look," Hogan whispered, "it's not like we have any choice. We're darn lucky we got out of camp to help you at all," came the upset reply. Hogan shook his head. "I'm sorry, this war is just getting to me a little, I guess."

"As it is all of us."

A boy who appeared to be Oskar's brother was quickly organizing the younger children into groups. "He seems very efficient," noted the colonel. "I don't want to tell him what to do, if he's your son and he's supposed to be organizing them..." He recalled that Gretchen's stubbornness made her insist on taking charge, and didn't want to ruffle any feathers at a time like this. "But that man there, Sergeant Kinchloe, is in charge of getting people to the aircraft."

Gretchen instructed Albert Schultz to lead the other children over to a waiting truck. Kinch met them by the supposed Gestapo truck and gave the correct code. Albert and the others were relieved.

"I would never have believed this was legitimate with all these Gestapo uniforms," the young teen told Kinch. "It is, of course, much easier to believe with someone like you here." Gretchen glared at him, wishing the boy hadn't made such an obvious reference to Kinch's race.

Kinch reassured them he'd taken no offense. "It's okay, I understand. It's actually nice to have my race be a help on a mission, usually it's kept me back at our base just waiting."

"Okay, we're supposed to try and get that man out of Gestapo headquarters. Now, you know the plan - we march in and..."

Hogan was interrupted by a couple loud shouts of "Ahab" from the children. LeBeau, keeping a watch, quickly noticed the same thing, Gestapo appeared to be coming into the area.

"Kinch, get the cubs and take off, now! Don't wait!" Hogan commanded. He was glad Kinch obeyed without hesitation, and that many were already in the truck. Their supposed Gestapo vehicle could easily be missed, given that several real German vehicles were coming into the area.

Kinch dove into the truck, giving a "go" command as he shut the door. Olsen, dressed as a Gestapo captain, drove off with four Schultz children, three other children of Underground workers, and five Jewish children.

Hogan determined things were still well in hand - two trucks existed to take the remaining escapees back to camp. However, the Gestapo's presence complicated matters in a way his men had figured their Sydney Carthon plan would not be. He could only guess that either a spy had infiltrated them or, more likely, the captured agent had cracked under the cruel Gestapo torture. Hogan and his men would likely not have cracked, leaving "Sydney Carthon' much more workable.

Still, he had an idea. Their Gestapo uniforms would make something of a difference - he hoped. It rankled him to consider that they could be so close to home, and yet lose it all. And if the normally very mild-mannered Hogan had begun to get excited about the thought of home, what more were his men thinking?

Good, Hogan considered, careful not to appear to watch Kinch's truck. They got away. He was thankful to be able to rescue those innocents - what kind of a cruel nation tortured children?

Then, there was the Remagen information. Even if he hadn't needed to rescue them, he knew the Remagen information was too vital. There was a reason they'd waited to pass that on personally. Any leak, any intercepted message, could lead the Germans to blow up that bridge too, and ignore any "miraculous breakout" they had planned. Remagen was so out of the way Allied forces had trouble finding it as it was. This was something to be delivered by one of their own. And, Kinch was the most trusted man he had to do that.

Hogan refocused his attention on the approaching Gestapo troops. Dressed as a general, he walked up to the Gestapo, with the civilians trailing close behind. He hoped little enough had been leaked he could fool them. He handed the Gestapo captain his papers and said "General Karl Koenig, Nuremburg Gestapo. We have traced these men..."

No such luck, thought Hogan as the Captain pulled a gun on him. "I would not do that so fast; we have information that a massive escape of traitors was to take place in this area. I would appreciate it if you would all come down for questioning."

Chapter Three

Carter and Eric sat in Eva's room. The American glancing absent-mindedly at the clock. As he emphasized that his mom's pie would clearly be better than LeBeau's strudel, the thought dawned on him that Hogan was supposed to have called over a half hour ago. Newkirk was to have impersonated Klink, and asked them to page Eric. Eric was to come down to the lobby, and Newkirk would order him tot ake Carter and report to the proper location.

Carter explained to Eric that he was going out for a stroll. His instincts told him something must have happened, but what could it be? Would Hogan have tried to send someone back to Stalag 13? He knew radio contact was out of the question, but somebody could have phoned the camp. That's what he would do, he concluded.

Showing the desk nurse phony papers, he checked to see if there were any Gestapo around. There were none. "I work for an attorney, Karl Doberman. It is a matter with the Klink estate. I must call Stalag 13. May I use your phone?"

"This is for hospital business; there is a phone over there." She pointed to a small lounge near the entrance.

Carter thanked her and walked over to the phone. He occasionally got quite nervous as himself with the Germans, but when pretending like this, he could be at least semi-efficient, if a little scatter-brained at times. This was the way he'd been when a patrol had picked him up one time while he ws planting tynamite with the others dressed as a German. He reported that he'd found it, and was congratulated. He even handled impersonating a German military man rather convincingly. However, he'd then done something very odd - he'd borrowed a tank to help destroy a bridge with the others.

He reminded himself not to go overboard as he dialed the number of Klink's outer office, reaching his secretary. Asking for the guard's quarters, he soon was in touch with Oskar Schultz.

'Oskar, it's me, Carter," he whispered.

"What? Where are you? And how do I explain I got called to the phone?" Oskar inquired in a whisper.

"Ja, I was inquiring about the trust?" Carter said as if posing a question in his "Attorney Doberman" voice. More lowly, he explained, I'm pretending I'm a lawyer, if I say something funny."

"And why would a lawyer be calling me?" Oskar shook his head, then spoke in a normal tone, deciding it was best to simply pretend he was talking to his mother. He was starting to understand why Hogan hadn warned him how tough it was - this was one strange ad lib session. "Yes, Mother, don't worry, I'm eating

well. No, not like Father, you have enough money problems as it is."

Carter muttered, "I haven't heard from you-know-who. He was supposed to call here a half hour ago. Has he called you?"

Oskar needed little time to know who "you know who" was. While he didn't know the entire plan, he knew that had to be Hogan or, at lest, one of his men. He began to fear a little for the plan. Hogan was never late, and certainly one of his men would have called. Out of that many, one had to, didn't they?"

He knew is question, out loud, could refer to anyone. "I have not heard from him. I can see if anyone else has."

"Good. Write down…" Realizing Oskar's normal voice had caused him to use his, Carter reverted to his lower ton. "Write down this number, and have Baker call from you-know-where." Carter asked the desk nurse for the number, and repeated it.

He hung up and walked over to the nurse's station. "My client had to look up some items, and he will call me back here."

"Couldn't you just go back to Herr Doberman's office? It is only a few blocks from here."

Carter shook his head. "Nein" rose from his lips, but he could think of no reason. Wait a minute, Carter, he told himself, that was dumb. Why didn't you have Baker call there.

He remembered as Eric walked down to the lobby and spotted Carter. "Are you ready to go?"

Carter shook his head. "I am waiting for a phone call. I called Stalag 13 about some matters, then they said they would get back to me."

Eric was nonplussed. Wasn't he the one in charge here? "You called Stalag 13? But you are a...Mmpf..."

Carter put his hand over Eric's s mouth, trying to think how to explain to the suddenly inquisitive nurse. "Er, you see, my son here does not know about this estate, I usually handle divorce work." He dragged Eric over to the phone.

"Your son?" Eric exclaimed, trying to figure out what strange thigns could be happening. "And, what

estate?"

"Well, er…" Carter hoped the phone would ring quickly. How was he supposed to explain this? He gulped and continued. "Well, you see, I had to say that, I was scared I'd get in trouble if she knew I was a prisoner," he babbled. He was thankful Eric was only fourteen - though his demeanor implied he would not be fooled as easily as some might.

Eric rolled his eyes. "All they would have to do is call Kommandant Klink." He picked up the phone and said, "I will call and he can explain…"

Carter grabbed and replaced the receiver. "Oh, no, that will not be necessary," remarked the American, still using his German voice. "Kommandant Klink will be calling back once he gets in - it should be in a few moments."

Eric continued to stare at him. Carter was acting way stranger than he'd ever seen. He supposed it was possible tht Carter was simply cared being out of camp; and it was true, there were some who might not understand. But, first, from his understanding, Klink had authorized this trip, and second, Carter didn't act like this yesterday.

Thankfully for Carter, as Eric puzzled over these things, the front desk phone rang. The nurse answered "Frankfurt General Hospital," and Baker announced he was calling from Stalag 13. Before the nurse could say anything, Baker bragged that, "We are the toughest POW camp in all Germany," and boasted loudly about there having never been an escape.

"Look, I do not care about your record of no escapes, I frankly would be more than happy to let many of our patients leave, but they cannot!"

Baker recalled a phrase he'd heard Klink used a fair amount - "Oh, yes, the bombs. Those barbarians." He reported that he wished to speak to someone matching Carter's description.

The nurse peered at Carter. "Is this Kommandant Klink? There is some odd activity going on here."

Baker paused for a milisecond before affirming the nurse's query. "Yes, my friend can be quite eccentric at times," Baker said in German. He didn't do a great job, as he didn't sound a whole lot like Klink. However, he had to gamble that the nurse had never heard the Kommandant's voice. He bragged again about the "no escape" record to make it sound a little more authentic.

"Excuse me, I did not stay on the line to hear you gloat," the nurse said, trying to keep her cool. "I just want to know who this man is who says he wishes to speak to you," she insisted.

Baker grinned. What has Carter gotten himself into now? This provided a welcome relief from his previous thoughts, on the troubled youth waiting upstairs in Barracks 2. "You can trust that man, he has handled a few things for Herr Doberman in the past, and done quite well. Let me speak with him."

Eyeing Carter, she continued to be a little suspicious. The lad in the guard's uniform, though qutie young, looked much more authentic. He stood upright, he had never stammered, and had immediately given the nurse a "heil" sign after coming into the lobby. She handed the phone to him instead.

He decided tht first, he should thank Klink. "Herr Kommandant, danke so much for allowing me to visit my sister. You are truly a model and noble German, just as our leaders say we are."

Baker instantly recognized Eric's voice. He coughed several times. "Yes," Baker said as he held his nose, hoping to fool Eric into thinking he had a cold. He probably hasn't seen Klink in two days, he could have a cold, considered Baker. "When you run the toughest prison camp in all of Germany, you can allow things like that. You are so lucky, my dear private, to be linked with the great mind of Wilhelm Klink, holder of the only perfect record among any prison camp."

Eric decided that Klink had to have a very bad cold to sound like that. Luckily for Baker and Carter, he thought nothing further of the difference in voices as Baker pretended to cough once more.

"Listen," Baker continued, "because of my illness I wish you to do something special for me, and travel to a place in Bonn; Carter will tell you where. We are to pick up more prisoners."

"More prisoners?" Carter tilted his head slightly when he heard Eric say this. Well, as long as Baker is rescuing me it doesn't matter, he told himself.

"Yes. The glorious Fatherland is being stretched to its limits, but we keep capturing more and more Allies, and they know where to house them, the toughest POW camp in all of Germany." Baker analyzed his impersonation,a nd decided that he might have overdone it a little, even for the vain Klink. But, for his not having the experience in this kind of role, he determined that he hadn't done badly.

Eric quickly handed Carter the phone. He whispered to the nurse. "That man spent half his time bragging about his record," noted Eric, trying hard to hide his disgust.

Carter shooed them away, explaining he was discussing confidential matters. As Eric and the nurse huddled over near a long hallway, Eric confirmed that it was Kommandant Klink on the phone. "He has something of a bad cold, but he sounds as vain as ever."

The nurse nodded. "The first thing he mentioned to me was his no-escape record."

"That is what he spoke of most when I was recruited," Eric told her. With that and the "cold," the nurse was satisfied that it had been Klink on the phone.

Meanwhlie, Carter whispered on the phone. "Hey, thanks for gettin' me out of that."

"No problem. Now, as for Hogan." Baker sighed. "I haven't heard a thing. And till we get more radio parts we can't do much here." He shook his head. "Nothing there, either?"

"No. Do we still go to the meeting point?"

"No sense bringing Eric back here. If you don't see signs of anyone, you remember the contact points. If something's happened, you might have to make it down to Remagen yourself and go across the Rhine to tell our guys." Baker hung his head for a moment, then went up to tell Oskar. He wished he could find words, but he could only shake his head. It wasn't the worst - he recalled when Klink came up after seeing Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk taken captive, he looked like he was having a hard time keeping from getting emotional. But, Baker ws still more worried than he could remember.

"Is everything..." The younger Schultz, too, was speechless.

"No word. That might not be all bad. They were sending Kinch and a couple other men with all the kids first if something happened, so your siblings should be safe. But for the others..." He tried to sound positive, but could only shake his head sadly. "I can't make any promises."

Kinch and Olsen pulled up to a plane at an abandoned Bonn airfield. It was an old B-10 bomber; given the crowd expected, they felt one of these needed to be procured. The utter lack of Luftwaffe in the area, thanks to Allied dominance, had allowed them to sneak it in, with several fighers buzzing around in the air just in case. Once it landed, the pilot had stayed in the plane. An Underground worker would serve as co-pilot, if everything went according to plan. Whether it would or not was another question.

The front stood mere miles away, so the aircraft would probably make it across to Allied territory quite safely. Olsen glanced around, then ran to the back of the truck. Kinch hustled out of the back and motioned for the children to follow him to the plane, where steps had been placed leading up to the entrance. "Hurry," came the hushed, insistent voice as he escorted them to the B-10. He shushed one child who asked where her dad was.

The Underground worker barely had time to open the door and glance out of the plane before they began boarding. "Papa Bear, no time to explain," the black man spoke coolly but swiftly.

"Are we being followed?" the worker inquired nervously.

"Didn't look like it, but we've gotta get airborne fast, just in case. Get back in the cockpit."

He herded the children in quickly, then called for Olsen to enter. He did so just a car with Gestapo markings approached. "Go, forget the steps, we'll jump when we get there. Go!" Olsen considered that was probably about the only time Kinch had shouted as he pulled him in with one hand and made a circling motion with the other. And that was likely simply out of concern for the children. They taxied even before Kinch shut the door. A Gestapo bullet banged off it as it closed, but the plane was far enough away and going fast enough that only a couple other bullets came near, and none came near vital areas. Shouts of "halt" and "identify yourself" were ignored.

The children suffered numerous bumps and bruises, having not been buckled in when the plane went airborne. Kinch breathed a sigh of relief while leaning against the wall, regaining his composure remarkably fast. He stood and smiled warmly at the children, thankful they had been able to get away with all those kids. He nonchalantly stated, "That was an adventure I don't care to repeat."

Only then did he recall Hogan and his men, not to mention the other civilians; his mind had totally been on his own mission. They had planned on cramming into this craft. He had no idea what to tell these small ones about those left behind; even the Jewish ones, for in the several years they'd been in hiding, the protectors had become like parents, in a way, at least emotionally.

"Is our mom gonna be okay?" inquired one of the Schultz' children.

Kinch breathed deeply and walked over to the boy. "I can only say Colonel Hogan's gotten out of tougher jams than this." It felt unbelievably like he'd always pictured a mass escape with the other prisoners. "Name's Kinch, by the way, this here's Olsen and..." He turned to ask the pilot's name. Olsen had already removed his Gestapo uniform to reveal t-shirt underneath, so the children wouldn't be so scared.

"Lance Jeffers," came the British accent. "Call me Sir Lancelot."

"Are we in Allied space now," Heinrich Schultz asked. Once Kinch said "probably," the boy held up a " v' for victory" symbol for all to see. "It's so nice to be able to do this freely, and show the faith we will have victory over those scary bombs and mean leaders," he told himself as all copied.

What a welcome sight, Kinch considered. At least some of us have had victory today.

Olsen walked to the co-pilot's seat, while Kinch and the Underground worker comforted the children. "I always hated brussels sprouts," Olsen remarked, "but this is one time when Brussels will be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Oskar marched glumly into Kommandant Klink's office, unsure of whether or not to advise him of where Hogan and his men had gone. Oskar's dad had been unable to muster the requested 12-hour pass, but Oskar was about ready to go AWOL if he had to. Schultz had confessed that he, too, had such thoughts, but that luckily, Hogan was always on top of this situation. If his wife and children did wind up having to leave with Heaven only knew who else that Hogan was "picking up," well, Hogan was always capable of dealing with such a situation. He could trust Hogan to do very unusual things. Still, he wished he could be there.

Oskar, of course, had something else in mind, as well. It wasn't the normal plan. But, hit had now been well over an hour since Carter had called, let alone since Hogan or one of his men was supposed to call. He told Schultz his idea, and his father finally agreed that, yes, it was probably a good idea to inform Klink. To tell him as much as they knew, and see if it convinced him. If not, well, Baker really had little way of knowing when to flee in this instance, but it might be a good idea to close up shop if Klink wasn't willing to listen.

Schultz hadn't been privy to all of Hogan's plan, but Oskar had told him everything he knew. The father and son walked into Klink's office. The Kommandant smiled at the boy. Oskar continued to be even more efficient than his dad. "Good to see you, Private, what can I do for you?"

"Herr Kommandant..." His throat dried up a little, and he licked his lips. Hogan might be a little upset, but perhaps, if they were captured, Klink could send men down to rescue them. He didn't know how they would explain the uniforms. However, he remembered what his dad had once said. If only our nation knew, or even suspected, then they could never support Hitler. And, Schultz only suspect something bad was afoot, and had only suspected a small portion of what the Nazis had done.

Hopefully, Klink would also refuse to support Hitler if he was at least made to suspect. "It has to do with the order you gave, that I ensure that the men of Barracks 2 fall out for exercise time," Oskar began.

"Yes, yes, go on," came the somewhat impatient colonel.

"Herr Kommandant, I was...mistaken when I said they had been disciplined." He could think of no other way to say this, so he blurted out, "It has to do with a Sydney Carthon."

Klink glared at the elder Schultz. "Schultz, check the roster, find out who this troublemaker Carthon is."

Oskar shook his head. "No, you see, it is...an escape plan," he called it.

"What! Schultz, find Carthon, 30 days in the cooler for him!"

Oskar couldn't believe the kommandant's attitude. I thought vanity was his only problem. He knows nothing of literature, he can think only of this camp. Slightly exasperated, and hoping that Klink wouldn't mind his frustrated tone, Oskar explained, "Herr Kommandant, Carthon is a fictional character. You know, A Tale of Two Cities.'"

"What cities?"

"London..." Oskar began

The Kommandant clapped his hands and shouted with glee, interrupting the teen. "London! This could be an Underground unit, then." He wandered around the office, thinking out loud. "Of course, why else use a fictional name, I know why one would use that. They use an escape attempt to reach this outfit, then go back to England." Oskar rolled his eyes. "What is the other city involved? Wait, do you have documented proof? Bring it to me at once!" When Oskar tried to protest, Klink stomped on the floor. "Schnell." In the back of his mind, the colonel pondered the promotion that might result from ferreting out this group.

Kinch kept numerous books in the radio room, which seemed almost like a library. He wants a document -I'll bring him a copy of the book. It must be here somewhere, Oskar opined as he searched the area, only telling Baker that he wanted the book. Finding it, dog-eared in several places, he brought it back, pondering as he jogged back how to approach this with the German colonel. How does Hogan put up with him, Oskar wondered. I can see more and more why Hogan says it's so hard.

The youth handed Klink the book. "What is it, a code book? Does it have names," Klink wondered aloud, asking several more questions in rapid succession as he flipped to the opening. If the book's this big, perhaps we uncovered a major operation, he pondered.

He read aloud "It was the best of times...it was the worst of times'?" came the monocled man's very perplexed voice. He put a finger to his chin. "Wait a minute. Why does that phrase sound familiar?"

Schultz could sense his son about to blow his cool at Klink, who was thinking of a possible promotion if what he would claim he uncovered was big enough. So, the sentry stepped forward and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, calming him. "Herr Kommandant," the sergeant of the guard explained, "that is the beginning of a book by Charles Dickens." He rubbed the boy's back slightly, giving him a little pat and mouthing "calm down" to him.

"Who is this Dickens? He sounds familiar; do I know him?"

Oskar felt like snidely remarking that Klink probably flunked the literature courses where it would have been taught. His father's presence prevented it, though.

Schultz explained that, "Herr Dickens lived many years ago." He bowed solemnly. Yes, perhaps Oskar is right - it is time. Even though it's only speculation, there has been so much hatred, you need to tell him. Lives may depend on it. Raising his head again, he pursed his lips and resumed. "With your permission, there are some things going on, and which may be going on, which you must know about. I believe it is time we had a very long talk, Herr Kommandant."

Klink sat down and grabbed a pen, ready to take notes on whatever information Oskar and his dad may have gleaned. As the fat sergeant sighed, and Klink grew more puzzled by the sad expression, Hans Schultz began to speak.

After radioing for help, the aircraft carrying Kinch and the others flew in low with two fighters escorting it. The plane landed and Kinch exited to a warm welcome from a gray-haired general whom Kinch recognized from before; he'd entered camp for a special mission.

The general gave a worried look as only the four men plus a group of children exited. Kinch knew what he wanted to say - where's Hogan?

Kinch saluted and said, "Sir, I remember you from Stalag 13, you snuck in as a corporal, if I remember.

"Yes, Sergeant Kinchloe, right?" Kinch nodded. "Refugees, or what? And..." He didn't know if he

wanted the answer to his next question.

Holding up a finger, Kinch motioned the general over to a secured area, with nobody around. "Listen," he explained in a very low voice, "before we go any further, I have something vital to tell you. There is one bridge along the Rhine - at Remagen - which has not been blown up."

The general's dismayed look brightened considerably for the moment. "Sergeant, you've no idea how worried the top brass has been about this. We figured Jerry had blown them all up, might have missed it otherwise. I'll let them know as soon as possible." He turned to leave, then turned back and spoke again. "Within a day or two, we'll be going across the Rhine. Thank you." He dashed to his car and ordered his driver to take him straight to headquarters.

Meanwhile, Hogan and his remaining ten men had been taken to Bonn Gestapo headquarters. The other civilians had also been brought. The colonel remained stoic on the outside, but inside considered whether it might be wise to pretend to fill Gretchen Schultz's role. He'd not known about the Jews till it was too late, but perhaps this would set things right. He had to find a way. If his men could get him out of here with someone else disguised as Papa Bear, why not pretend someone else had been hiding Jews? It had only been planned as a diversion in this case, but it could work this way, too.

As Hogan motioned with his eyes for his men to produce lots of clamor, a loud crescendo of noise occurred. The head POW whispered to Newkirk. "Do what you can, get Mrs. Schultz and the other civilians out first if you have to, we go wih Plan B as before. And once you've led them out, don't rescue me till they're safe." Newkirk began to protest as the Germans began shouting down the prisoners. "And that's a direct order."

Hogan no sooner got that off than one of the Gestapo agents fired a weapon into the air, quieting everyone instantly.

Captain Himmelman, chief of Bonn Gestapo, requested that Hogan and the civilians be placed under close watch - he would question the other so-called "Gestapo agents" individually about the situation. He spoke candidly, announcing that "there was obviously a breach somewhere, because a plane left a deserted Bonn airfield a short time ago, carrying an unknown number of suspected traitors." Thank Heavens, Hogan said to himself. The Gestapo took each of Hogan's men individually as Captain Himmelman spoke to Hogan.

"How can you be so insulting?" hollered Hogan. "You are trying to keep these people for your own personal glory, when we in Nuremberg anxiously await these people. You could be costing thousands of precious lives!"

"Oh, come now, you surprise me. I am sure that we will find there is something very peculiar about your appearances - after all, this is the spot where an agent told us that a top secret meeting was to take place en route to an escape." He glared into Hogan's eyes, but Hogan would not flinch. "Is that not true!"

"Certainly, we heard the same thing in Nuremberg." He scowled. "Do you not realize I outrank you. Unless you want sent to the Eastern front, you have better comply with orders and release us at once!"

After several minutes of hollering back and forth, Captain Himmelman abruptly stopped. He turned on his heels and left the group heavily guarded, awaiting a report from the men interrogating the other "Gestapo officers." Just in case, he instructed that nothing brutal be tried on them - a couple others, after all, did carry the rank of major. He wanted to ensure he was not transferred. However, he had major concerns about Hogan and the civilians.

A short while later, Captain Himmelman walked back into the room in which Hogan and the civilians were confined. "The good news for you is, the stories match," he reported. "We are positive that at least some of these poeple are from Nuremburg Gestapo, and they will be escorted to a truck and allowed to leave."

"I am glad you believe the truth," Hogan emphasized, "but we are under strict orders to take all of these people to Nuremberg, then likely on to Berlin!"

"That is what your 'men' say," Himmelman agreed. "However, you and the others are staying right here, where we shall get quite a few interesting things out of you, I imagine."

Hogan sighed. At least the kids got off, he thought to himself. The plane's safely in the air, and by now it's probably in Brussels. With troops due to stream across the Rhine any day now, all Kinch would have to do is mop-up work. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness, though, as the Gestapo man aimed his gun at Hogan.

Himmelman felt positive that the description dragged out of the agent matched Hogan. "I have heard a lot about you from Major Hochstetter...Papa Bear, is it?"

Hogan held up a hand as Gretchen tried to speak. "I'm the one you want; I'm the Fairy Godmother. Papa Bear is just a cover for when I was hiding Jews. Let these people go." Those kids deserve to both parents when this war's over, he told himself. And Schultz deserves a complete family. He doesn't need to lose her.

The man snickered. It was the first time Hogan could recall making one of these goons laugh. "Really, an Underground agent using another agent's identity as a cover? Do you expect me to believe that? A man such as yourself using the name 'Fairy Godmother?'"

"Why not, it's the truth. I'll tell you all about it if you let all these civilians go." And then I'll stall till my men either get the prisoners back to Stalag 13 and come back, or let Eric and Carter talk them into releasing me to Klink and somehow hope Klink doesn't have me shot for wearing this uniform. Yeah, right. I'd be almost better to grab one of their guns and shoot up the place before - likely - being shot myself. It is a far, far better thing I do, than I have ever done….

The agent cocked his gun as Hochstetter walked into the room with an evil grin on his face. "At last, we meet," came the major's voice as several agents followed him. Hochstetter turned to Captain Himmelman. "The others you may deal with as you please, Captain, you have done excellent work. I will question this man myself, back in Hammelburg." He grinned as two Gestapo guards grabbed Hogan by the arms and dragged him out the door. Hochstetter followed before turning back to the captain. "Whether he is Papa Bear, the Fairy Godmother, Nimrod, or all three, you have just captured the most dangerous man in Germany. You will be richly rewarded for your efforts."

Several minutes later, Newkirk led the other men from Stalag 13 back into the Gestapo's headquarters. "I'm tellin' you, you've got the wrong man," cried Newkirk as if he were trying out for a Shakespearean play. LeBeau pretended to twist his arm while scowling, and Newkirk gave an extremely high yelp of pain. "Okay, okay, maybe I did it, maybe I am Papa Bear!"

"What is the meaaning of this," shouted Himmelman as he and the other agents, stunned from the incredible outburst, remained steady and unready to shoot. They tried without success to comprehend the bizarre spectacle before them.

"We found the real Papa Bear," declared LeBeau, though not before glancing around himself quickly to ensure all of Hogan's other men were ready in their Gestapo gear. Their guns were trained on Newkirk, but they would twirl as simultaneously as they could and take out the Gestapo men near there. Good thing none of them are in front of the civilians in that cage, noted the Frenchman.

"But that cannot be..." gasped Himmelman, "I just spoke to Major Hochstetter..."

Oh, that's bloody great, thought the Englishman as he exclaimed, "No, don't let Hochstetter get to me, please, not now!" At the shout of the word "now," Hogan's men began firing their machine guns in rapid succession. Once the men in the immediate area were subdued, Newkirk and LeBeau stood with four men each on opposite ends of the hall with guns poised. Foster and two others quickly opened the locked cell with Himmelman's keys and allowed the others to escape. The same formation was used all the way out into the street, where the prisoners were hustled aboard a waiting truck.

LeBeau lenched his teeth, disgusted at the bloodshed and trying hard not to pass out. He instead fled to the truck with the civilians as others manned his position. "Where is Colonel Hogan," he wondered anxiously. "Do we need to go back..."

One of the civilians hastily explained. "A major named Hochstetter took him to question him personally." Noticing the pained expressions, he asked, "Is something wrong?"

Newkirk hung his head as the men crowded aboard the two trucks. "Mates, take 'em back to you-know where." His stomach felt sick as he lost all of the excitement over home that he'd felt only a few hours before. Now, it didn't matter how close the allies were - his mind was focused on his commander. "Just the one truck. Foster, you lead. Louis an' I gotta go back to that place, leave a coded message for the good Samaritans." this meant that Carter and Eric, if and when they came by, would see that the others had gotten off safely, and that they were to go back to Stalag 13. "After that, we gotta see if we got any cards left - up our sleeve, in the deck, anywhere." He couldn't believe they could come so close, and yet lose a man he considered the greatest leader in history.

The call came into Klink's office as the kommandant groaned, hanging his head in shame. He gazed at

A number - a number from just one camp.

Oskar had used the phone and pretended to be someone else calling Berlin. He had heard Hogan mention the name of one camp, and decided to call Berlin and ask them for a figure from it. He'd suspected there had been some inhumanity - but the look on Klink's face told him it was far worse than anyone had imagined. He's expected perhaps thousands brutally treated - after all, the hatred espoused by Hitler and his cronies was fierce. The commandant's face spoke of much worse atrocities, though. After Oskar had called, and persuaded someone in Berlin to provide the statistics - what a strange look Schultz and Klink had each had when Oskar had acted like he was from Himmler's private staff - he'd handed Klink the phone. And, Klink had learned that at just one camp, the number reported had been worse than any f them could have imagined. The numbers overall had to be in the millions.

How could Klink even fathom numbers like that? How could anyone?

Yes, it was ridiculous to say people could not leave, and then deporting them - just as all the other rhetoric hadn't been truly logical. But it had sounded so smooth, the monocled man had bought it, hook, line, and sinker in the beginning. Then, he just hadn't thought about it at all. Why should he, there was a war to be won; even if, to him, that war seemed to be World War One at times.

"This…is an incredibly dark day for the German people," he mumbled, totally crestfallen.

Schultz picked up the receiver. He, too, had problems, mostly with knowing that even by knowing nothing and helping a little in certain areas, all he'd helped to accomplish was the escape of a few families of employees before and right after the "night of the broken glass" in 1938, the rescue of a couple Jewish children and the prevention of his children from believing the propaganda.

He'd told Klink of his concerns, of his fears, of the dread. Klink agreed with him that the Gestapo and SS were ruthless. But, even the man cradling the receiver, who had suspected some "monkey business', couldn't imagine it could be anywhere near this bad.

"Stalag 13, Sergeant Schultz, speaking," Schultz spoke in a very depressed tone. "Mm-hmmm," his voice brightened a little, and he even managed a slight grin with the n3ext "mm-hmmm." His tone suddenly dropped to its most discouraged. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh, I see. Danke." He quietly replaced the receiver as Klink stated that words couldn't express the sorrow he felt at thinking of innocents being treated like that. What kind of monsters were in their nation?

Oskar looked at his dad expectantly. "What is it?"

"Your mother is coming here, and all the children are safe." Oskar clapped joyously. "However..."

Hogan refused to close his eyes, ready to face death as he had for over three years, pain from several kicks from Hochstetter reverberating in his shins. The song continued to echo in his mind. Yes, I thought I might reach home, but...I was only dreaming. For there's a guard, and a...well, not quite a sad old padre, the Nazis had nothing religious about them, certain nothing worthy of the loving God he knew. Still, that part about them coming to see him 'neath the shade of the old oak tree...

Suddenly, shots rang out from outside the door, striking the Gestapo men in the back. That better not be my men, he told himself. And Kinch left with that plane too recently to be back already. He raised his eyebrows as a masked individual removed the bandana from his face and ordered the others outside to stand guard.

"Kommandant!" Hogan suddenly had many more questions than he could ever articulate. He let the thought hang.

"Yes, Hogan," came the sad, expressinoless voice. "Schultz told me about the concerns, the hypocrisy, and worries about camps...I did not want to believe him, but some of the things he said and comments from our leaders did strike me as odd, when he put them all together. Finally Oskar called and checked, putting me on the phone to hear some kind of a report..." He shuddered. "It is probably worse than even you imagine." Hogan looked ready to speak, but couldn't. "Schultz is awaiting his wife back at the camp; their other children are safe in Belgium. Those who accompanied me, the guards I brought, are all outside just in case. Tell me; you were working to protect the Jews all this time, am I right?"

"Kommandant..." Hogan felt sytmied; he didn't want to reveal the true nature of his operation, and yet he sensed Klink needed something to hang onto, a confirmation that some had been saved. He didn't know if he could provide it, though. He couldn't bear to say "yes," for he knew Klink was referring to other times when odd things had happened. And yet, Hogan had known nothing, and thus been able to do almost nothing to help them. For all he knew, those they'd assisted in this operation, outside of most of the Danish Jews who had fled late in 43, were the only Jews remaining in Europe.

Indeed, thought Hogan, how could anyone provide the love and comfort that was needed in such a situation. "Kommandant...this is the first...I haven't done nearly enough..."

"I know." He sniffled a little. "Hogan, when Sergeant Schultz told me what our nation had done, I did not want to believe it. I looked at my copy of Mein Kampf, made a few calls...we got confirmation of what we've done in at least one camp." He hung his head in shame. "I had never really read that book, just trusted it was our leader's, and that he was going to…" He didn't even want to say "help Germany" because when he'd glanced at what Hitler had written in that book, it made him shudder. That man had done nothing but destroy his nation. "I had placed so much trust in our Fatherland, to see it all vanish, all my faith in our leaders' goodness and truthfulness destroyed in a matter of hours..." Klink rambled as Hogan heard a car drive up to the building.

A door slammed quickly as a pair of boots came running up to the door. Carter was nearly out of breath, forgetting that Eric wanted to follow him, as he ran up to the entrance. The hyperventilating sergeant had seen there were no Gestapo around, so he felt safe getting out, running past the puzzled guards, and racing into the room where Hogan and Klink stood. "Colonel..." he exclaimed, losing control and embracing the man, "I thought... you were...dead!"

Hogan grinned, patting the man on the back. "It's okay, Carter, we're safe now."

Klink approached the American and asked, "What are you doing out of uniform, Sergeant?" I don't know how Hogan got a Gestapo uniform, but Oskar says they made one, so maybe that's true, but Carter in a civilian one?

As Carter searched for an answer, Hogan chose to respond. "We needed a diversion to get the guard you put in our barracks away from us."

"Colonel Hogan," Klink said, trying to find words, "an escape I can see, but he is not in his normal uniform. Where did he get..."

Eric jogged in, saw Kommandant Klink, and instantly stood at attention. Saluting, he appeared happier than he had been in quite a while. He exclaimed, "I need to thank you again for allowing me to see my sister once more."

"Your sister..." The German colonel was nonplussed.

"Certainly better than most of those barbarians on the Allied side - except Carter is at least willing to understand." He turned to the sergeant as Klink rubbed his chin, trying to comprehend the situation. "At least, I presume you are sincere in what you said to me on the way over." I hope I can put trust in something, he thought to himself, once again feeling sad over the loss of the rest of his family.

"Sure, I just need to contact my Uncle Cal, I know it's something they've thought about."

"What who said...your sister...Hogannnn," exclaimed Klink, "what is going on here?"

Before Hogan could answer, Carter explained, "They can't have children, you see. It's something biological."

"Who cannot..." Klink pounded a fist into the air. "Would someone explain to me what is going on?"

Hogan had not been privy to the idea, but he felt it could provide him with a way out. Hoping Carter -

or Eric - would finish the sentence, Hogan started, "Carter's uncle wants to..."

Eric smiled. "Yes, Carter said his aunt and uncle live on a farm in Indiana, and have always wanted children. He feels they would be happy to adopt Eva and me."

That's what I thought he was talking about, considered Hogan as he eagerly ad libbed. This will help us a lot, pondered the man. "Carter knew he'd never be able to get an adoption done dressed in his own stuff, so he figured since we needed the diversion anyway, he was going to go visit an adoption agency and see how to go about helping."

"And you expect me to believe that?" Klink flapped his arms at his sides. He looked around at the dead Gestapo agents, including Hochstetter. They would need a much better excuse than that for these crumpled bodies. And, at some point, he'd need to report something to Berlin, he presumed. Still, he reasoned, if he'd taken lots of guards out to capture Hogan, then he supposed some could have gotten caught in the crossfire. But, even Major Hochstetter? "Then again, how are we going to explain this?"

Hogan asked if there was any gasoline around. "We can torch this place, make it seem like an Underground attack," the head POW reasoned. He decided to reveal where he'd been. The Gestapomight normally be swarming the area, then, making it impossible to operate, but that wouldn't happen so close to the end, they'd all be fighting. "Some people probably saw me near Frankfurt or Bonn, Kommandant, you can say I escaped from there, then you used your cunning to run into me here." He hoped his men were back at Stalag 13 by now. He wanted to keep their names as clear as possible. "Carter saw Karl Doberman, an attorney in Frankfurt, he'll agree to have seen him for the adoption."

Klink sighed. It was like other times Hogan had helped him, when he'd even agreed to see nothing when Hogan was getting something from a safe deposit box. This was the best he could do, he supposed. Still, he was concerned as they prepared to burn the area. "Will they really believe that for long?"

Hogan smiled, finally allowing himself to again savor the hope spread by their news of Remagen. "Sir, don't worry, the war can't last long enough for them to be suspicious of you." Klink rubbed his chin, trying

to ponder the meaning of that statement.

Epilogue

General Burkhalter strode hastily into Kommandant Klink's office. "Klink," he sputtered, "order your Hitler Youth and some guards to man fortifications around this camp, and send as many as you can to Hammelburg; the Americans are coming!"

Klink didn't want to expose his superior to his hatred of Nazis. He'd not seen him in over a month because Burkhalter had been fighting, so there was no need to hide it. Now, however, he was in a quandry. He was a changed man. He'd addressed the Hitler Youth on this subject a few times - though Schultz and Oskar had done most of the explaining and de-Nazifying of the youth.

However, he still feared authority, and was unsure how to handle the situation.

Finally, he called Schultz into the office. "Schultz, get Colonel Hogan and his men in here. He may have an idea."

The guard complied, and Hogan - having overheard on the coffeepot - donned his cap and walked over. "Burkhalter's getting nervous, huh?" Schultz nodded.

Let him sweat a while, Hogan considered, overhearing the general shout at Klink from halfway across the compound. He sauntered across the camp, glad his men had had a couple weeks of missions after the Remagen incident. Of course, they'd sealed all tunnel entrances while the Gestapo searched the camp for clues, and they had still needed to get Klink to pull the Hitler Youth out of the barracks, but that had all taken place by mid-March. Now, as March wound down, if Burkhalter would just shut his mouth, he could swear he heard the rumbling of tanks.

Hogan entered to hear the general screaming. "Hogan, I do not know why the kommandant has called you, but we are going to defend this camp." He glared at Klink. "And if your kommandant will not give any orders, I will! Sergeant, order all Germans to fortify this camp!"

Hogan pulled out a gun and pointed it at the general. "Well, guess what. We've learned a few things here about the Nazis."

Even as the general held up his hands, he said, "Klink, you cannot let him do this. Schultz, grab your rifle!"

"I'm afraid I can do it. Even if I didn't hear the rumbling of tanks like I thought I did, Klink has seen enough to support me on this." He turned to Klink. "I'm sure you don't want some six foot four lieutenant from Wichita pointing a tank's nozzle at your face, right?"

"Hogannnn!" Klink collapsed in his chair. "All right, you win." He shook his head. "Where did we go wrong? It would have been so grand if we had only supported rulers who were not mass murderers...wouldn't it? Hogan, please, tell me we might have won had our leaders not been so full of hate."

The fat sentry grinned. "I know I would have been happier, Herr Kommandant. Though I do not like

war, this was especially bad because..."

Klink waved his hand. "Aw, shut up, who asked you."

The general's face was almost purple. "Klink, you buffoon, what are you babbling about? And why does one of your prisoners still have a gun pointed at me? And why does he even have a gan!"

"Well..." This wasn't part of Hogan's work. "Yes, Hogan, why do you have a gun?" Klink's quest6ion was much more conversational than accusing, though.

"Come on, and we'll show you." He marched Burkhalter out of the office, and several other prisoners with guns soon emerged to watch the generals' men and Klink. "Schultz, order the guards to throw down their weapons." When the guard protested, the American asked "what choice do they have, may as well surrender this camp intact, perfect record' and all."

A few minutes later, the sentry announced that they were disarmed. "Good. Gentlemen, this is now Allied territory; don't worry, Schultz, once our men roll in you and Oskar and Eric will be free to go home, I made sure of that. I'm afraid the others will have to be taken prisoner for a while."

"Danke, Colonel, shall I pack my things?" Burkhalter was beyond incredulous.

"Wouldn't hurt. We'll be in touch, I'll make it down that way soon. This way." Klink and Burkhalter were led to Barracks 2 as the rumbling of American tanks became louder. They could now be seen pushing forward as prisoners began celebrating. The first crashed through the barbed wire. "Okay, men," Hogan tried to holler above the din, "no leaving the camp till they raise the Allied flags, don't want to spoil the record now." They walked into the barracks.

Disgusted with defeat, the general asked "why don't you just shoot me?"

"Because the Allies do things differently. You'll probably be tried as a war criminal; Klink's volunteered to testify against Gestapo people, I don't know if he'll do you or not."

As Hogan was about to open the tunnel entrance, Eric rushed in and embraced Klink and Hogan. "I cannot thank you enough," proclaimed the youth. "One of the soldiers brought me and Carter a message - the American government is okaying the adoption plan, and Eva and I will be flying to the United States with Carter when he gets discharged in a few days! Oh, I am so happy we are going to have a family again!" He skipped marrily out of the building, as Hogan allowed a small tear of joy to fall. You're so happy about home, Robert, he told himself, but it means so much more to some than you'll ever know.

Burkhalter began to complain when Hogan opened up the tunnel entrance. The bunk flew up, and Klink hollered, "Hogan, you have been trying to dig tunnels to escape!"

"Good thing the Allies came," sneered the general, "or it would have ruined your perfect record!'"

Klink began studying the tunnel. Glancing down, he said "this is excellent craftsmanship."

"Klink, you buffoon, who cares about the craftsmanship! How did this happen under your nose! This looks like a subway tunnel!"

"Well, I..." Hogan urged them down, and they complied.

A few other men stood down at the bottom with guns. "You guys may as well enjoy the celebration, we can handle it here." The other former prisoners quickly ran upstairs. "Questions, gentlemen?"

Burkhalter and Klink were both incredibly stunned by the amazing number of things in this tunnel. When asked where it led, Hogan replied "you name it, it probably lead there."

The general was so agitated he looked ready to pass out. As Klink surveyed his surroundings with a great deal of awe, Hogan walked them over to the switchboard, and Baker connected them to Klink's former office. "Care to see who's there now?"

"Hogan!" The general grumbled heavily. Trying to calm himself, he said "I have had enough. I just want to go live my life in quiet disgrace."

"Oskar Schultz said to tell you he'll be there for spiritual guidance," Hogan relayed. "He plans to go into seminary someday, and become a Lutheran pastor. "He especially wants you to know you can have the Lord's forgiveness if you only believe."

"I do not care about that right now, just tell me one thing, Hogan." He didn't know if he could stomach the answer, but felt he had to ask. "Were you a spy?"

Hogan decided he'd better not let it out - it had been hard enough to convince the Allies to let him "get back at" some of the Germans this way. Hogan merely shrugged and said, "Why should I start bragging about anything I did? Klink's ego was big enough for both of us."


End file.
